


Ravishing

by Glamourchick1668



Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Multi, Sex, Smut, To Be Continued?, possibly more in the future - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22515241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glamourchick1668/pseuds/Glamourchick1668
Summary: We're so ravishing, and it's just my luck tonight I don't have anything to wear...
Relationships: Jake McKenzie/Main Character (Endless Summer)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Ravishing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NympheSama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NympheSama/gifts).



> Well, here's to you, NympheSama! My first attempt at plain ol' smut. 
> 
> This is mostly an exercise to see if I can actually write something smutty. Was it a success? I dunno, we'll see what you guys think. If you like it, maybe I will add to this story and just make it a collection of smutty Catalyst vignettes. 
> 
> Yes, it is kinda set within the DOV continuity, but that's really just a backdrop. This will be especially true if I continue it with other Catalysts and pairings. 
> 
> And if you guys have any suggestions for scenarios for future exercises, I welcome them.

He's scared tonight. I could feel it in the way he held me on the dance floor at the restaurant. What is he scared of? There are plenty of options to choose from. Is it mundane? Fear that my aunt and uncle don't like him? Or is it something deeper? Fear of losing me again? Fear I will fade away? Fear that my return is all just a pleasant dream he'll be forced to wake up from when the summer ends? I can't blame him for being scared. I'm scared, too.

In the bathroom of our suite at a luxury resort in Los Angeles, I stand before the full-length mirror in a fluffy hotel robe, carefully pulling out the pins that hold my hair in a graceful chignon. One by one, honey-blonde ringlets tumble free to brush my shoulders as I watch myself carefully in the mirror, locking eyes with my reflection. It's a pretty face that stares back at me, heart-shaped, still expertly made-up by the artist at the salon and spa my aunt took me to during the day. Pale and smooth under a layer of liquid foundation; eyeliner, shadow, and mascara form a frame around my cerulean eyes. A full, rosebud mouth retains enough wine-colored lipstick to give them an enticing color, even after Jake has already kissed and nibbled most of it off.

I told him I was going to 'slip into something more comfortable'. I'm wondering if the robe is too much. I undo the belt and let it slip off my shoulders, landing in a fluffy white heap on the polished tile floor. I observe my body. Newly acquired. It's been less than a month since I showed up on the beach on La Huerta. And yet, it's twenty-eight years old. It has memories. It has scars. It has pert breasts, a flat stomach, broad hips, and the sinewy limbs of a dancer. It has freshly-waxed legs. I cup the mound between my thighs, trailing my fingers over the silky folds. I had my legs done at the salon today. The rest I did myself.

I'm already warm and moist with anticipation. I let the edge of my finger run lightly between the folds, back and forth over the place where the two sides of the pubic bone meet at the midline, teasing myself, refusing to go any lower. I watch my face in the mirror and see my jaw muscle tighten beneath my skin. There is hunger in my eyes. Hunger and fear and anger and sadness. I shouldn't have to be afraid. Jake shouldn't have to be afraid. But I am. He is. We are.

I open the bathroom door, leaving the robe where it is. Jake is sprawled across the bed, naked and waiting patiently for me. For a moment, I am silent, admiring the taut muscle that ripples over a narrow frame. He's built like a dancer, too. Slim and strong, and graceful in his way. I love his broad shoulders. I love the action-hero stubble that shadows his jaw, and his clear blue eyes that peer out between strands of shaggy brown hair. I love the way one side of his mouth quirks into a crooked smile at the sight of me.

“Well, if that isn't the most beautiful sight I ever did see,” he drawls. “Gettin' the feeling you want something from me, Princess.”

I let one hand rest on the jamb of the bathroom door as I take a small step forward, my bare feet sinking into the plush carpet.

“I want you to make me feel human.”

I've made that request more than once since I came back. He knows what it means. He's known since the first time I asked. He knows me. He rises to approach me. The lights from the chandelier overhead and the lamps on the dressers and the nightstands and the desk in the corner create a dapple pattern of light and shadow that plays over his body as he closes the distance between us. I close my eyes as his hands rise to my shoulders, calloused palms running gently down my upper arms. I inhale his scent; his spicy-sweet cologne, a touch of sweat. The fingers of one hand trail back up my arm, along my collarbone, lingering in the hollow of my throat before slipping under my chin to tip my face toward him. He captures my parted mouth in a kiss, his tongue easing between my teeth. His stubble pricks my chin. I push back with my tongue, tracing the inside of his mouth, tasting toothpaste and mouthwash.

His fingers flutter over my nipples. My throat tightens as they grow hard under his touch, and I kiss him harder. He cups my right breast in one hand, his other arm winding around my waist to pull me closer. He deepens the kiss, tasting me again, and I capture his tongue lightly between my teeth. When I feel him pulling back, I bite his lower lip, making him hold for just a moment before I release him so that his lips can roam over my jaw. He lips at my cheek, nibbles my earlobe, and kisses back down toward my chin. I tip my head back as he kisses my throat, the curve of my neck. He lets his tongue trail over my collarbone, and I find my fingers threading through his shaggy hair, manicured nails raking lightly over his scalp.

His mouth closes around my right nipple, tongue flicking over the hard flesh. My throat constricts further. There are tears in my eyes, and I don't know why, but I don't want him to stop. I don't want the tears to stop, either. Not yet. I gasp as he bites down lightly. He chuckles, moving over to the other breast. A thin coating of saliva over my right nipple cools as it hits the open air, making me shiver. I comb through Jake's hair with trembling fingers. His hands are trailing downward, fingers gliding down toward my sex. He cups the mound between my legs, his fingers finding the moist opening between the smooth folds. He chuckles, his breath warm on my skin.

“You're really ready, aren't you.”

“Yes, but not too fast.” My voice trembles a little. “Let me feel...”

I think he hears the wobble in my voice, because he pulls back and looks up at me with concern. “You okay?”

I grunt my frustration as his hand withdraws just a little, nodding hard enough to make my teeth rattle. “I'm fine,” I growl. “I'm feeling. I want to feel...”

“You're crying...”

“I'm not sad. I'm not scared.” But that's a lie. “I...it's not because of anything you're doing.”

He straightens, putting his arms around me and drawing me in close. “...It's everything else. Isn't it.”

I hold him back, pressing my face into his shoulder. “...I don't want to stop. ...You know I'll tell you if I do.”

“I know.” And in the next moment, he's swept me up into a bridal carry. “But maybe we should get a little more comfortable, huh?”

He deposits me on the bed and I sink back into a heap of pillows, parting my legs as he lies down on top of me. I can feel his cock resting on my belly, drawing downward with the rest of him as he kisses my mouth once, briefly, then continues his journey where he left off before. He kisses each nipple in turn, then the hollow between my breasts. He leaves a trail of kisses from the tip of my sternum to the space beneath my navel. Waves of anticipation roll through me as parts the folds with his thumbs.

The first flick of his tongue over my clit makes my back arch. I suck in my breath sharply, reaching down to grasp the back of his head. I can see the satisfied glint in his eyes as he turns his gaze upward to meet mine, and I can't hold back a laugh.

“Don't— _huhh--_ don't you d-dare make some smartass remark right now,” I warn him, feeling the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Rude to talk with your mouth full.” 

He snickers, and puffs of warm air tickle my skin. His tongue starts to move faster. I dig my heels into the bedspread, holding his head against my pelvis. The muscles of my midsection constrict against a spasm of pleasure, my hips bucking against his mouth. Sweat blooms on my skin, making me glisten in the dappled light. 

“God...fffu--” I bite my lip, whimpering with the rising bursts of white-hot ecstacy. His tongue is so soft. It's too soft. It's too much to feel and it isn't enough. I collapse back on the pillows and grab his head with both hands. My fingers ball up fistfuls of his hair. I feel like I'm about to burst, writhing and gasping like a landed fish, my legs quivering. There's something pushing deep in the core of me, desperate to escape, but the emptiness is so vast it aches. 

“Jake...Jake, I need you...I need you... _inside..._ ” I collapse again as his tongue leaves my clit to draw up the midline of my body, between my breasts, up my throat until my lips are caught up in a warm kiss. My own flavor permeates his lips, briny and acidic. 

“You need me?” he breathes, hips pressing against mine. 

I bite at his lower lip. “Yes.” One hand strokes my hair tenderly. The other is back between my legs, fumbling with his cock and feeling for the entrance between my folds. 

“You want me?” 

I growl, grasping the firm curves of his ass and pulling him toward me. The tips of my nails dig into his flesh. “Yes!” 

He slides into me. I'm wet and ready, but there's still a moment of sharp, burning pain that makes me gasp. I press my face into his shoulder, letting my top teeth scrape the flesh of his chest. 

“All good, Princess?” 

I wrap my legs around his hips, biting a little harder. “Don't...stop...” I reach up to pull his face to mine, kissing like it's the last thing I'm ever going to do. “Make it  _hurt!_ ” 

My nails rake at the flesh of his back as his hips buck wildly against mine. Sweat pours down us in rivers, mingling as our chests and bellies slap together. I yelp with pain and pleasure and laugh giddily at the 'burps' our wet bodies make as air is trapped and released from the spaces between the curves. He laughs with me. Sex is weird and we delight in the weirdness together. 

Jake. My Jake. My fasted partner, my soulmate. How can it be that he fits me so well, that we go together like the two halves of a broken heart locket? I was born in the time storm over La Huerta, Diego's imaginary friend come to life, all the blanks filled in by the needs of the other ten Catalysts. How did everything I am become everything he needed in a partner? I was made to be his, but he is mine, too. I found the tender core of him that he had buried since his faith was broken three years before I met him. And in his embrace, in his example, I found my own truth, and I found the strength to face it. He made me stronger. He gave me the will to be selfless. In his arms, all truths became clear, and I knew my path. 

I'm clamping down on him from within, drawing him deeper. It's not enough. I want more. I need all of him. I need to feel him the way I always felt him then. I need to find my path in his arms again now that there's no more sacrifice to escape from, no more Vaanu, no more Island's Heart missing its final piece. No more fiery hellscape of blood and bones, no more tortured souls begging to be saved, needing me to dissolve to restore their lives. I am flesh. I am blood. I am lust and sweat and acrid, stinking fluids and a warm, wet passage stuffed with my lover's hard flesh. I am in an ecstacy of agony, howling and yelping like a beast while he grunts and groans on top of me. 

I snarl, biting his shoulder as I push insistently at his chest. I twist my hips, throwing my weight into a motion the flips him onto his back so that I'm straddling him in the moonlight. His face shows rapture as I pin his wrists to the bed, bending to kiss him as I keep my hips rocking slowly. I kiss along his jaw, lightly licking at his ear. 

“You like when I ride you?” I whisper huskily. 

“Yes...Oh, God, yes...” 

I laugh. I straighten, gripping his hips with my knees as I rise and fall slowly, sensuously. I lean back and let the rhythm of our bodies carry my motions. His hands span my hips, his thumbs tracing the bony ridges of my pelvis, pressing into the soft spaces between. His grip tightens, his breath quickening as I bring him closer to his climax. 

“Princess...” he gasps. “I...I'm gonna...” 

“Yes! Don't hold back...” 

I rock faster as his thumb searches the space beneath my pubic bone to find my clit again. I've crossed my threshold more than once, but I find my way again under his touch. My head is spinning, my vision bending as I feel the telltale shudder, the warmth, and hear the protracted groan of pure pleasure from my lover beneath me. 

The tears come like another orgasm, hitting me hard and fast. I collapse onto Jake's chest, sobbing and clutching him like a lifeline. It isn't the first time I've burst into tears just as the sex ended. Scared the shit out of him the first time, and I'm sure it scares him a little this time, too. But he's not showing it as much, and I'm grateful for that. He rolls over onto his side, carrying me with him so he can cradle me against his sweat-slick body. 

“I'm not letting you go,” he whispers into my damp, tangled hair. “No one's taking you from me again.” 

“I...I f-feel safe as long as it's summer,” I gulp clumsily. “On the island, it was...either summer, or a snowy, freezing winter. ...I think it's autumn that scares me. The season between...that reality. Like this is all a dream that's going to end when the summer does.” 

His fingerstips trickle down my chest, fluttering over my nipple again. He takes it between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently. 

“...You feel that?”

I close my eyes, nodding. He kisses my forehead tenderly. I barely notice his hand has left my breast until I feel it connect sharply with my bottom, just hard enough to sting. I yelp, my eyes flying open, and find him grinning wickedly at me. 

“How 'bout that? You feel that?” I answer by grabbing a throw pillow and whacking him over the head. He laughs, bringing up a hand to half-heartedly defend himself. “Mercy! Mercy!” 

I stop the assault, tossing the pillow aside. “...I assume you were making a point?” 

“...You're human, Princess. You're real. You're not a dream. You're not going to just fade away.” He brings his hand up to stroke the side of my tear-stained cheek with the soft blade of his forefinger. “...Even when you gave yourself back to Vaanu, you didn't just fade away. You had to make that choice. And until you make that choice again, you're staying here. With me.” 

I nod, nuzzling his forehead. “With you. To the stars and back, my love. Until the end of everything.”

“Until the end of time.” 


End file.
